I Lied
Summary: She knows she's lying when she tells herself that she doesn't love him. One sided JohannaxFinnick. Rated T.
The first time I saw him was on TV. It was the Sixty-fifth Hunger Games, and he was the pretty boy all the girls in District Seven couldn't keep their eyes off of.
Not, me, though. I was perfectly fine rolling my eyes at the ditzy girls who drooled at the sight of Finnick Odair with his shirt off.
I was watching the Games with my "best friend" Maple Beech. Best friend in quotations because it was more for show than anything else. Our moms were best friends, our dads worked together at the lumber mill, and, to be completely honest, it was easier to share the pain. But I did not like her. Not at all.
She was upbeat, nice, and girly, things I was not, even back then. And it irked me.
"Oh my god!" Maple screamed, and I immediately winced, bracing myself for what I was about to hear, "It's Finnick Odair! Look at him! He's beautiful! His face! His lips! His abs! And his biceps! Oh my god, I would like die if he died!"
I groaned, "Mape, you sound like a freaking Capitol Citizen! Stop!" It came out with more edge than I planned, and I could see the hurt look on Maple's face, but I ignored it, instead focusing my eyes on the boy on the screen.
Finnick was handsome, no doubt. But he was arrogant (I had seen as much in his interview) and heartless (how could you kill people like that?), and his face just didn't make up for that.
I stared at my television. Finnick was getting way more screen time than any of the other tributes. He had left the Career pack a while ago, which was probably smart considering that there were only a few tributes left. I watched him as he heard a scream in the distance.
It was his District partner, some girl that he had basically ignored the entire Games. She was battling one of the tributes from One, who must have decided it was time to get rid of her. I sighed.
I watched Finnick's spear hit its mark, right in the heart of the District One boy. I watched, unable to turn away, as he walked towards the girl, helped her up, and agreed when she begged to join him.
They had only walked a little bit when the girl collapsed. She had some sort of knife in her stomach, which she must have been hiding from Finnick.
He ran to her, horror on his face. She talked, but it was too quiet for me to hear. Instead, I focused on Finnick's face. It was tear-streaked, which I found surprising (he'd barely known the girl!). He grabbed her hand and kept telling her how sorry he was.
She died, of course. It was the Hunger Games, not The-Capitol-Loves-the Districts-So-Much-Games. Finnick was distraught, sobbing over her dead body. I suddenly wondered if he cried after all of his kills. It wasn't like it was his fault that he had to kill those kids. It was kill or be killed.
"Oh my, poor baby," I heard Maple say to my left, and Strong Johanna was back, "People die all the time. It's the Circle of Freaking Life."
Maple stared at me, "Doesn't mean it isn't sad."
I didn't pay attention again until the very end. It was Finnick versus a boy from my own District, a boy a couple of years older than me that I vaguely knew from school. I knew I should have been rooting for Seven, but I really wanted Finnick to live.
"I hope Finnick wins," Maple said.
"Oh my God! What is wrong with you?"
I watched Finnick and the boy from Seven, both now lying on the ground, bleeding profusely. The boy from Seven was sobbing, blood gurgling from his eyes. I rolled my eyes. What a baby.
I saw Finnick, who reached out his hand and grabbed the trembling fingers of the other boy, and I smiled.
The other boy eventually died, and I watched Finnick being pulled out of the Arena half-dead.
Half-dead, but still half-alive. I didn't know why that made me so happy.
"Johanna!" Maple screamed, "Do you know what this means? He's coming here on the Victory Tour! Oh my gosh!"
I glared at her, "Do you seriously think he's gonna magically fall in love with you when he comes here?"
She glared back, "Well, jeez, Jo, just because you don't like him, doesn't mean you have to be so obnoxious."
"I don't like him," I shot back, "He's ugly and heartless and I will have nothing to do with him! So there!
oOo
I stood outside President Snow's office, fingering the envelope that had called me away from the party (rather rudely, I might add).
I was a Victor now, having emerged from the Arena scathed, but alive. I was happy to return home to a peaceful, more monetarily comfortable life. I just had to talk to evil Santa Claus first.
I didn't bother knocking, just flung open the door. "What the goddamn hell do you freaking want, you idiot!"
If he was disturbed by the outburst, he didn't show it.
"Johanna, please do come in," Snow said, and gestured towards a fancy plush chair on one side of the room. That was when I noticed the younger man in the room. He was tall, with bronze skin and golden hair. It was none other than Finnick Odair.
"What is he doing here?" I asked Snow, glaring at Finnick.
Snow smiled at me, "Mr. Odair is going to discuss something rather important with you, Johanna. Meanwhile, I don't want to miss anymore of the party." He opened the door and let himself out.
I whirled on Finnick. "What do you want?"
He sighed, and I noticed for the first time that he looked rather uncomfortable. But Finnick Odair, uncomfortable? Never!
He held out his hand, "I'm Finnick. Congratulations on winning the Hunger Games."
I didn't respond, just continued glaring, so he dropped his hand awkwardly.
Finnick was staring at the ground, and I was beginning to get exasperated. "What do you want? I'd like to get back to my party and then go home."
"That's just the thing, Johanna. You can't go home. Not permanently anyway."
"What do you mean?'
"Look, I'm just going to say it. Snow wants you to be a –prostitute. Like, uh, me."
My eyes widened and I didn't say anything for a few seconds, then punched him, hard. "Are you kidding me? You can't be serious!"
He looked at me, no expression on his face, "I'm serious, Johanna. Sorry."
I looked at him with hate, "Then you disgust me! Why the hell would you ever agree to something like that! You are-sick!"
I whirled around, about to storm out, when he grabbed my arm. There was pleading in his eyes, "Johanna, please, just listen. They will kill your family. The people you love."
"I'm not scared. They can't do anything to me. I won the Hunger Games. I'm immune now."
"Johanna, please. We're the same. I don't want you to get hurt."
I whirled on him, "No, Mr. Odair. We are NOT the same! You are a disgusting, filthy playboy that's too weak to stand up to the Capitol, and I am better than that! So please, just leave me alone!" I stalked out, not bothering to look back.
"No, Johanna," he called out (I wasn't yet out of earshot) "We aren't that different. It's just that you're stupider than me."
oOo
The three of them were buried under an oak tree.
The funeral was a quiet and sad occasion, as all funerals are; everyone had left, leaving just me and my sadness.
I sunk down to my knees, tears leaking out of my eyes and spilling into the dirt for the first time since the fire.
It had never been said out loud, but it didn't take a genius to see that my refusal to fuck people for Snow and the death of my parents and my brother were connected. It was all my fault. I was an arrogant, ignorant bitch.
It was fall, and I could hear the crunching of leaves beneath someone's boots behind me. I turned around, expecting Blight, my mentor in the Games and my new "designated caregiver". It wasn't Blight.
It was Finnick.
"What are you doing here?"
He didn't answer. Instead he stretched his arms out to the side, a cheeky smile playing across his face. "You look like you need a hug."
"If you hug me, I will kill you,"
I didn't think his smile could get any bigger, but it did as he laughed at my expense.
He was from the coast, and autumn was cold in District Seven, so he was wearing a puffy blue jacket. I didn't even realize I was shivering until his jacket was around me, warm and comforting.
We sat down, crunching the orange and yellow leaves. Finnick took one of my hands in both of his, and I was tempted to pull myself away and run. I didn't though, only because his hands were surprisingly warm and comforting. I let myself drown in his strength, and the world didn't look as bad as it did five minutes ago.
"Johanna, I-" he began.
"You're going to say 'I told you so', aren't you?"
"Actually, I just wanted to say how sorry I am. This really sucks. Also-look, Johanna, you can't blame this on yourself, okay?"
"Too late." I replied. "I guess I'm gonna be one of Snow's little prostitutes now." I sighed, "I should have listened to you before."
He looked at me, and the smile had disappeared from his face. "You know, I didn't agree to it at first either. But Snow- he- my grandmother." Finnick couldn't go on, and he looked away, tears filling his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Finnick."
He looked at me, his gaze serious and powerful. "If we're going to get through this, we might as well get through it together,"
I laughed humorlessly, "Well, I could use a friend, especially since Snow killed everyone else I care about."
We were standing now, and I held out my hand. "Allies?"
"Nah. Friends."
oOo
Our Friday and Saturday nights were spent "partying" at the Capitol. Finnick and I would always eat breakfast together the morning after, joking about who got more wasted, nursing our hangovers, and just trying to forget.
So I was a little concerned when it was 10:25 on Sunday morning and there was no sign of him.
I figured he probably just partied a little too hard last night and overslept, so I knocked on the door to his room. There was no response, so I turned the doorknob and stepped in.
God, his room was a mess. Clothes and underwear were everywhere, and dirty dishes, torn pillows, and other miscellaneous items littered the floor. His bedspread was neat, but that's only because he never spent the night in his own bed (Thank you Snow).
"Finnick?" I called, uncertainly. I was tempted to leave, just go back to my room and yell at him later, but then I heard a faint moaning coming from his bathroom.
"Finnick?" I stepped cautiously into his bathroom and finally found him.
Most of the time I look at Finnick and forget that he's not a Greek God; he's just a kid. I had never seen him so small and vulnerable before. He looked utterly deflated.
Finnick was a hot mess minus the hot. He was wearing his fancy white dress shirt from last night, but his tie was crooked and drooping to the side. He was wearing hot pink boxers (despite everything, I laughed a little at that) and long black dress socks up to his knees. Both articles of clothing were covered in dark red blood.
More worrisome than that was his face. He had two black eyes, his nose looked broken, and his lip was split. Bruises ran down his legs, and blood dribbled everywhere. I didn't want to know what else was wrong with him; I was too scared.
"Finnick," I said, "Did Snow do-"
He stopped me. "It wasn't Snow. It was my guys last night. They fucked me up-literally. I-I—". He suddenly stopped and vomited all over the floor. I wrinkled my nose in disgust.
This is when he started crying. "I hate this! I hate it!" He beat his knuckles against the vomit-covered tile, grimacing as he created new bruises upon his existing ones."
I had known Finnick for about a year now, which I realize isn't very long, but when you're forced into prostitution with someone, you get close quick. My point is, I'd known Finnick for a while, and never once had I heard him complain, about his Games, his life back home, or the nightly fucking. This was bad.
I went to the sink, wet a rag, and began wiping the blood and vomit off Finnick's face and upper chest, ignoring his whimpers. He closed his eyes, and with a loud crack, popped his nose back into place. Tears were still dripping down his face, but I could see the old Finnick slowly begin to come back.
I stand up. "We should probably get you into clean clothes." I say, "Cause while you usually have great fashion sense, blood splattered pink boxer shorts are really unattractive on you." He cracked a small smile, but it came out more as a grimace.
I helped him up and out to his bed, and he began stripping while I dug through his closet. I helped him put on a faded T-shirt and jeans, ignoring the fact that he was standing in front of me in his underwear (and looking insanely hot, I'm not gonna lie).
"I'll call an Avox to come clean this mess," I offered. He nodded, not really listening.
"I'm sorry you had to see me this way." His voice was small and timid, adjectives I'd never use to describe him. "It's not usually this bad."
He didn't have to lie to me. I knew the nights were usually worse. I sat down next to him on the bed, and wrapped my arms around him as he looked at his feet. "I'm here for you, Nicky," I said, using my pet name for him (cause please, Finnick just sounds dumb).
He smiled at me. "I'm really glad I have you, Jo."
But that was enough with the sappy stuff. I stood up, and brushed off my hands. "You, mister, are in big trouble. How dare you stand me up for breakfast?"
He stood up slowly. "Oh yeah, sorry 'bout that."
"You'd better be sorry. Now let's go. Our crepes are probably blocks of ice now." I led him out the door, down the hall, and to our table, where our food was waiting faithfully.
Finally, I noticed the pungent odor. "God, your breath smells horrible!" I said, reaching into my bag to pull out a package of sugar cubes. "Here, take this, and get rid of the awfulness."
He grinned at me, popping several sugar cubes into his mouth. "Oh, so that's your secret. Sugar cubes get rid of the pain."
oOo
"Johanna, Johanna, Jo!" I heard him before I saw him, dashing into my room as I was getting ready for a night of "entertainment".
"Wow, you're certainly excited to go fuck someone tonight, aren't you?"
He looked at me, but even my snarky comment didn't even slightly dampen his spirits. "Jo, you won't believe it! I'm engaged!"
"Wait, someone agreed to marry you?"
"Jo, please. I'm so excited. I asked Annie today and she said yes!"
I was confused. "Wait, who's Annie?"
Now Finnick was confused, too. "Wait, I must have told you about Annie. She's my girlfriend. Well, more than that. She's the love of my life."
"Oh."
He scratched his head. "That's really weird. I could have sworn I've talked about Annie before. I mean, everyone at Four is always telling me I talk about her too much." He checked his watch. "Oh, I got to go. Bye, Jo!" He gave me a tight hug and ran off.
I leaned back in my chair, a sudden wave of sadness washing over me. Finnick was getting married? It seemed so unreal, I couldn't believe it.
We had never talked about home much, but I just assumed that was because neither of us had anything or anyone worth talking about.
You're stupid Jo, I told myself. Just because you have nothing back home doesn't mean he doesn't either.
But it was more than that. I'd always thought Finnick was my one and only (okay, I like him! Like really like him! Like love him! I love him!). I'd also thought I was Finnick's one and only. I guess I was wrong.
You should be happy for him, I told myself. It's not like we were ever dating.
But the truth was, I wasn't happy. The heart everyone assumed I didn't have was broken.
oOo
The screaming was unbearable.
Annie was in the same cell as me, and I swear to god, her high pitched caterwauling was too much for me.
"I'm going to kill her." I muttered under my breath. It wasn't just the screaming, although it was pretty awful. Annie was beautiful, with her porcelain white skin, gorgeous blue eyes, tiny features, and flaming red hair. And most importantly, she had Finnick. She was taking away Finnick, my best friend, my love. Yes, Finnick, my love.
It wouldn't be that hard to kill her, and I knew it. I could just lean over and wring that pretty neck of hers.
Only one thing stopped me. It was Finnick's face from the night he told me he was engaged. His bright sparkling green eyes. His smile wider than I have ever seen (and believe me, I've seen some wide smiles on Finnick). He would never forgive me. And even if he never found out it was me, I doubted he would be the same again.
So I just covered my ears and waited for the agony to end.
oOo
He was the first one to visit me after I'd arrived at Thirteen. I wasn't expecting it; after all, Annie was back, too, and was probably in worse shape.
"Hey," he said softly, and perched at the end of my bed. "What's up?" His voice was softer than i remembered, and I wondered what turned the arrogant swaggart into the pained, frail creature before me. Then I scowled. No doubt worried about Annie.
"I was worried about you," he said, and took my hand in his. It was warm and calloused, and his grip was still strong, just like all those years ago at the funeral. Some things never change.
"Oh, and what about Annie?" I replied snarkily, surprising even myself. Finnick and I had only talked about Annie once, years ago when he told me he was engaged. I wasn't jealous or anything. No, not at all.
He looked at me, surprised, "Jo, what are you talking about?"
I shook my head, "Never mind. Everything's okay."
"Come on. I've known you for too long for you to think you can hide things from me. Seriously, what is it?"
I looked at him, and I could feel the weight of my secret on my shoulders. Or maybe that was the heavy army blanket that was covering my torso. I thought of all the times I hated him for his ignorance, all the times I had blamed poor, innocent Annie. It was time to spill.
"Finnick?" I asked quietly, "Do you remember, in the Quell, when I said the Capitol couldn't hurt me because there was no one left I loved?"
His interest was drawn. "Yeah?"
"I lied."
A/N: Hello, thanks for reading! If you liked it, please take the time to favorite, follow, and review to tell me what you liked! If you didn't, please review and let me know what I can do to improve.
Song is "Back to Black" by Amy Winehouse